Gone forever
by Spock99
Summary: How Fred Weasley sees Diagon Alley and the wizarding war. Written for QLFC, inspired by Queen's "Another one bites the dust"


**A/N**

**Written for QLFC Season 7 Round 9, Chaser 1 of Falmouth Falcons**

**Warning: Character death, slight OOC of the twins**

**Prompt: Another One Bites the Dust**

**Direct Quotes:**

_**"Another one bites the dust."**_

_**"And another one gone…"**_

_**"How do you think I'm going to get along, Without you when you're gone?"**_

_**"There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man,"**_

**(character) Fred Weasley**

**(color) royal purple**

**(words) rock n' roll**

**'...' = Thoughts**

* * *

I remember walking through Diagon Alley for the first time ever. It was so beautiful, so noisy yet perfect. The different smells and all those people! The colors and the shops. The bustling activity all around me. This can only be described as magic. 

I haven't lost that overwhelming excitement until this day.  
I was still pressing my nose to the windows of the Quidditch store and the Magical Menagerie when we came here in my fifth year at Hogwarts. 

Last year when George and I came to set up our own business, we stared in wonder at the cute cobble-stone street lying before us, inviting us to run around like little kids and explore the wonders of this street. We became a part of it, and we are proud of it until this very day. 

Now it is darker here. The people are walking fast, straight ahead, without stopping too long in front of a window. The magic this place owned was broken the very day Death Eaters broke into it. No music or happy voices can be heard nowadays. The only noise is the sound of my feet as I walk down the cobblestone. 

They killed Florean Fortescue back then. The beautiful place with all sorts of ice cream one could ever imagine is now nothing but a huge example. I remember we were pleading with mum every time we were here as kids to get some ice cream. Now I will never taste any of the various sorts again. My kids won't stand there, in front of the glass, staring open-mouthed at the boxes full of the cold stuff. 

Every day when I pass Ollivanders', my heart gets even heavier. The store is dark, the glass of the windows is broken, and the once neatly stacked boxes with wands are gone or ripped apart and scattered around the floor. 

They took much with them, the Wandmaker himself and some of the wands. The rest they destroyed. His fate could be worse than Florean's. There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man, but With Ollivander, I am unsure of what is worse. The damage they do to him or the sorrow he must have felt when watching his life-long work getting destroyed. Perhaps death is better than what the elderly man has to endure right now? 

Every day the fear amongst the shop keepers increases. I heard some of them talking about leaving, setting up their business elsewhere. George and I decided to stay. How could we go away now that the joke shop is beginning to run smoothly? How could we deprive the visitors of the little fun and the smiles they will get in the weeks to come? 

The war is approaching fast, and we won't budge. We are ready to fight. We will do so until the war has ended. Either we win or—I don't really know. 

* * *

And another one is gone. The third shop this week closed today. Eulop's Owls were there for over a hundred years, and now, he has fled. Packed his things and plastered his door and windows with wooden planks. On top of them, he stuck the pictures of Fenrir Greyback and all the other criminals.

Gone is the joyful atmosphere, the laughter, and the carefree visitors. Is Voldemort happy, satisfied to have stolen the joy from our world? Does he even care? 

The only bright thing is our store. We charmed the huge Weasley-figurine above the entrance to lift his royal purple hat and greet the street and let a white rabbit will appear on his head. 

That had been George's idea. A joke to tease the wizarding world. A brilliant thought in those dark times. The thought of my brother waiting at our shop, most likely experimenting with some new sweets, make me smile. We have each other. Family is important. Not to know how Ron is and how Ginny is doing at Hogwarts makes us sick. 

To be honest, we grew up a lot during the last few months. It is not bad, though. We are just a bit more careful and not as rash in our decisions as we were a year ago. 

The war changes people. It seems as if the families stayed at home and don't go out anymore. The parents don't show their kids how beautiful the world can be, out of fear to lose everything. 

I don't know if we are ready for this whole war thing. At night, in bed, I think about "what ifs." 

What if we lose the war? What if we lose ourselves in the middle of all this? What if we lose each other? That thought is the worst of all. Looking at my brother, feeling the connection we share is the most calming thing I know. What if I lose him? I don't think I could get along without him when he's gone. 

I forbid myself to think about that, but the worries are still there. 

* * *

"Fred!" He shouts my name through the shop so loudly, I almost fall from the ladder I am currently balancing on. 

"What is it?" I ask a little bit annoyed. Struck by a sudden idea I throw one of the tickling tentacles at him. Our newest invention. We are proud to present the mini deci-puss that is charmed to land on a person and tickle him or her.

I laugh at George's baffled face as he sees the thing coming at him. His eyes fly to mine and an instant later he is laughing out loud. The nasty little toy uses its tentacles to tickle him all over his body. 

I am laughing, too. A real laugh, one that makes my heart grow. After a minute or so I summon the thing to me and George wiped the happy tears out of his eyes.

"What was that for, Gred?" he questions and crossed his arms over his chest as he has done as a little boy. I smile at him and shrug my shoulders. 

"Just because... " Is my answer and we start laughing again. 

When we manage to stop after a while, George comes nearer and locks his gaze with mine. Suddenly his face grows dark, and his eyes lose the happy sparkle. 

"Another one's gone." He says. I know exactly what he means. Another shop owner has fled the Alley. Another one gone. 

"Who?" 

"Quality Quidditch Supplies." He answers. The war is going to get them all. 

I look at my brother and take his shoulder in my hand. I take a deep breath and fix him with a determined stare. 

"We'll stay, George." He nods That isn't a topic between us but I have to ask again. 

"We'll stay, we are ready for this," I say when he doesn't answer right away. 

Then a ghostly smile flickers over his face, and I know that very moment, he will agree.

"We will, Fred. And we will get the people to laugh!" His smile widens to a grin, and I feel the spirits rising inside me. I love him so much, and we will go through this together.

"Yes, brother, let's get the smiles back on all those faces! Rock'n'roll, brother mine!" 

* * *

He is so still. Lying there with his eyes closed. A royal purple bruise is covering his right cheek and seems to be the only color left in his face. 

I place my ear on his chest—I don't know why but I so desperately want to hear his heartbeat. I want him to wake up and laugh into my face because I believed his joke. 

But with such things, one does not joke. Another one gone. Another one bit the dust. But this time it is no carelessly spoken term for a shop that closed. This time it is my brother gone. Forever. 

It isn't "Fred and George" anymore. I am alone. George. Nothing more. I lean down and press my forehead to his chest.  
"Fred?" my voice breaks, and I don't try speaking again. 

'How do you think I am going to get along, to make the wizarding world smile? Without you, now that you are gone?' 

The world can't smile anymore because my laughter died today. It is gone. Ripped away from me with the brother, the twin, my second half. 


End file.
